The Boy with the Thorn
by IheartOakenshield193712
Summary: "Haymitch doesn't say it and he doesn't have to: it was always supposed to be Peeta, no matter what, Peeta was supposed to be saved. Katniss was supposed to die. He was supposed to live..." :: Everlark


**In case this looks rather familiar to any of you, I posted this story on Wattpad but it was just too fanfiction-y to not put up here x)**

 ***Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize. This is a one-shot of Everlark :) Enjoy!**

 ***Warning: feels ahead***

* * *

Katniss caught herself watching Peeta with pity in her eyes. She shook herself and cleared her throat before his blue eyes sought hers.

She knew he knew what she thought of him from time to time, especially after an episode. She couldn't help herself - some days his eyes would be so blank...

She'd be flung back to the time when they were so cold and his hands were so strong. The time when she never imagined what it would be like on the other side of the true Capitol-induced rage.

The back of her head would throb as the memory racked her body. Sobs would tear from within her and she'd race to the woods - the only place she felt at ease again.

Sometimes, she wouldn't return to the Victor's Village for days. Sometimes, she couldn't face what President Snow did to him... what _she_ did to him.

She'd begin to kick herself for not believing Peeta's feelings for her in the beginning, but then she'd remember they would have fought to the death...

Often, when she'd return from the woods, Haymitch would catch her. He'd give her a concerned look but she would shrug it off - it happens too much now, but I'll get through it.

He doesn't say it and he doesn't have to: it was always supposed to be Peeta, no matter what, Peeta was supposed to be saved. Katniss was supposed to die. He was supposed to live.

In a way, deep in the back of her mind, it was also supposed to be Peeta - he was supposed to be muttated and changed forever. He was supposed to kill her. He was always supposed to be brainwashed of the sweet boy with the bread and transformed into the bred cold-blooded killer.

She saw it in his eyes. The flash of hatred that had his fists tightening. His jaw would clench with boiling anger and his lips would curl into a snarl. Sometimes it would be for a split second or several minutes even hours.

But slowly, what was left of the boy with the bread would come floating back to her, along with the guilt of turning him into this monster.

Despite all they've been through, literal thick and thin, Katniss found herself as the days trudged on that she'd not have it any other way. Peeta was safe now, and that's what mattered.

"You're staring at me again."

She started - she hadn't realized her eyes had wandered back to him.

"You're thinking about it again, aren't you?"

She couldn't lie. "It's fine," she tried to assure him. "I'm fine. You're fine."

He gave her a hard look. "Katniss."

"What's done is done, Peeta."

He played with the toothpick on the table for a while before looking up at her again. "And you still want to change it, don't you?"

She exhaled. "No."

His brow creased.

"What I did to you, I know I can never go back on and say I'm sorry. It- it was my fault they did that to you - no matter what you say," she went on as he tried to interrupt her. "Yes, I think it about it, but then I also think... that we would not be where we are today had that not happened." She touched his foot with hers under the table. "You'd be dead and I'd be insane-r."

He cracked a small smile. "You're not insane."

A small laugh bubbled out. "I will be if Haymitch continues to beg us to cook for him every night."

"Is he at the door?" Peeta turned around and saw the familiar shadow walking up the steps. "I suppose I'll let him in before he breaks down the door again."

Katniss watched him rush to the front and yank the door open, revealing a very sheepish Haymitch. She rolled her eyes and stood to start on dinner while Peeta entertained their guest.

She set the pot to boil and leaned against the counter, watching the two men play cards at the table. Haymitch with his toothy grin and Peeta with his charismatic smile.

Peeta may have been permanently damaged during the Uprising, but Katniss always found herself comparing him to a flower...

His flaws, his anger, his rage, his bred instinct to kill her - all his thorns. His smile, his brief happiness, his "real or not real" manner - the perfect rose despite the jagged edges.

Her surviving Boy with the Bread.


End file.
